Untitled (HMC: Alternate Scene)
by Mona001
Summary: This alternate scene is dedicated to lenfaz, who really wanted some sexy times instead of lonely cold showers with only his hand to keep him warm. So here you go, Lena!


**12:21a.m.**

 _ **Hey**_

 _It's late for you._

 _ **I know**_

 _ **Did I wake you up?**_

 _No, you didn't wake me up._

 _What is it Emma?_

 _Emma?_

 _ **No, it's my fault. I couldn't sleep.**_

 _Did you want to talk?_

 _ **I'm sorry Killian**_

 _Emma?_

 _._

 **1:02a.m.**

 _I'm awake if you want to talk._

 _._

 **1:27a.m.**

 _ **How about now?**_

 _I'm here._

 _ **I'm sorry.**_

 _ **Henry left today for Tallahassee.**_

 _I know._

 _Is that what's bothering you?_

 _ **Henry? No.**_

 _ **I was just thinking about being here by myself.**_

 _I'm here. Across the hall._

 _ **I know.**_

 _ **I miss you**_ _._

 _I miss you Emma. But I understand. You know that I understand, right?_

 _ **I know.**_

 _ **.**_

 **2:54a.m.**

 _ **How about now?**_

 _Awake? Yeah._

 _ **What are you doing? Awake at 3am?**_

 _Well it seems in poor taste to blame it on you when you texted me only because you needed to talk._

 _ **How are you feeling?**_

 _Funny you should ask. In that way._

 _ **Funny, huh?**_

 _I can't sleep._

 _I think you're rubbing off on me._

 _ **Another interesting phrase.**_

 _Emma, I'm going to ask you to stop._

 _ **lol I'm not sure. Did I start this or did you?**_

 _It was definitely you._

 _._

 **3:16a.m.**

 _I still can't sleep._

 _Killian?_

 _ **I'm sorry about that. I don't mind keeping you company though!**_

 _You don't?_

 _ **Of course not.**_

 _Then will you do it in person?_

 _ **Are you sure, Emma? Is that ok?**_

 _I want you to._

 _I want you._

 _ **I'm on my way**_

* * *

The pitch-dark room is bathed in a sliver of light from the hallway. There is an anxiousness crawling through her as she watches his shadowed form enter inside. He looks taller, broader. He looks exactly like the man that she misses.

"Emma?"

Her anxiousness is not great enough to take away what she wants. Which is him. Months. Without his touch. On a lonely night. Where she reads certain thoughts and wishes of his own through his messages.

"I'm right here." It is soft as she turns her head just slightly.

Killian closes the door behind him, bringing back the full darkness of the room.

"Right where?"

There is a smile in his voice. She loves that. She wants it to stay. Even as he kisses her, she wants the smile.

He _will_ kiss her.

Emma's steps are wide and taken with purpose. Can he not make her out? She sees him. She wants him.

"Right here." It's another whisper. But this time…

She stands right in front of him. Can make out the rise and fall of his chest. Can make out his scent. There is a hint of soap. Not right out of the shower. Perhaps just his hands.

His hands…

"I can feel you," Killian murmurs. And he actually laughs. A light laugh, but a laugh.

And his hands come out slowly. He is reaching for her.

Emma moves even closer. Her eyes close at the feel just his fingertips barely touching her arm.

"You can't feel enough," she says. "Not like that." Because if he can really feel her, he would notice the lack of pajama bottoms. If he knew that he had a chance to touch bare skin, he would touch bare skin.

It's her hands that grab at his. They place both at her waist as she pulls herself closer to him.

She hears his shuddered breath. It only makes her feel weak in the knees.

"What are you doing, Emma?" Killian asks her, another nervous laugh in his voice.

"Can't you tell?" she asks. She stands on tiptoe, reaching blindly in the dark for his kiss.

There was no room for misinterpretation as she found his lips. A soft press of soft lips to firm lips.

But he doesn't kiss her back. Not immediately. What he does let himself do is wrap an arm around her waist. He drags her body even closer against his. But he doesn't kiss her.

It's been months, so she understands…

"I miss you." She whispers it against her lips. "I miss this." Her lips brush against his bearded cheek, and she hasn't realized before now how much she missed the roughness of it. "I just need this." Her hands find either side of his neck, and the pulse is strong under warm skin. "I need you."

Both hands splay wide over her bare hips. He takes in a deep deep breath, and his hold tightens on her even more.

"Okay." It is a strangle confirmation. With his hands still on her hips, he pulls her against his hardening body. And that takes both of their breath away.

This time, when her lips reach his, he kisses her back. It's a starving open-mouth kiss that speaks of his own need. He bends almost double, taking over the kiss, taking over her.

 _No. Not this time._

Emma pushes him back up straight, pushes him against the door. Her hands finds his shoulders, pressing hard against the body that she hasn't been privy to for far too long. She hears the knock of his body back into the door and it makes her smile.

"Damn." He loses his hold on her, and it's probably because of surprise.

The swear is deep and thick and it is a turn-on.

"Are you sure?"

As he asks, his voice is coming closer. His lips find her neck. And it feels so good. Killian. Her.

"Uh-huh."

She gives her answer absently. Her eyes close briefly at the feel of his lips, but that isn't her goal. It's not her focus.

Emma takes his hands, hands that have somehow found her hips again. He goes easily, letting her slip them to his own sides.

She appreciates the pajama bottoms because an elastic waistband is so much easier.

"So what are…"

"Something for you," she whispers.

And his hands stay hanging at his sides, although maybe he's itching to touch her.

Emma presses herself against the length of his body. She appreciates the quivering even more…

She presses her lips against the underside of his jaw. The tiniest growl hums against her. But it is the cupping of her hand over him that makes that growl increase.

She misses this, too. The way his body involuntarily responds to hers. The way he twitches against her. She can even feel the tension of his jaw against her lips.

And then she moves. She lets her mouth fall just slightly open, she lets just the tip of her tongue run across his jaw and down his neck. All the while…

She takes him in her hand, over pajama pants and underwear. She massages her fingers and her palms over him, feeling the way he grows even more under her touch. Bigger. Harder.

Emma likes the way he moans- he _moans-_ at the feel of her touch. She can see the face he makes underneath her closed eyes. She knows that face. The way he bites down on his lip. The way he begins to chew restlessly at it. And when she strokes the length of him, when she squeezes right there at the tip…

She sees his eyes squeeze shut and the way his mouth tenses as he hisses in air.

She _almost_ smiles as her mouth reaches the base of his neck. It's not so easy, because the feel of him does things to her as well.

Not now. Later. He can touch the throbbing parts of her later. Right now, it's…

Killian's hands both slam against the door behind him.

That makes her smile. It's been a long time for him. He's not used to it being this long. Not that he complains. He doesn't complain at all…

Emma reaches her hand inside the pajama bottoms. Teasing is fun, she knows, as she uses only her middle finger to run down the length of him, base to tip.

"Emma…"

She hopes he isn't worried about the wetness that stains his underwear when she touches him just at the tip again. She isn't embarrassed. She likes it a lot. She likes it so much that she closes her mouth against his chest, because if she moaned as well…

This is all a precursor anyway. Because although she likes the feel of him under the thin material of the underwear, she knows that she will like the feel of him unrestrictedly in her hand.

Her hand dives inside and she wraps her hand around him.

"Emma." He says it with a shuddered breath. It is a string of curses that follows.

"I like the way you feel in my hand," she whispers. She lays her head down on his chest and closes her eyes. "Incredibly hard. Silky. Already spilling." She looks up at his profile as her hand rubs up, down, around him. And she does love it. Every one of those words. She loves that they describe him at that moment.

Killian's head thrashes back, hitting softly against the door.

She knows the act is only enhanced by her speaking.

"Emma." The whine comes with the lift of his hand.

"No touching," she warns softly.

He curses again and slams his hand flat against the door.

"You should've warned me, love."

Emma lays her head back on his chest.

The twitch is back.

"You like it when I go slow like this, Killian?" she asks in a whisper. Her hand is moving over the entire length of him again. It is a light caress.

"Emma."

"That's not going to do it though, is it, Killian?"

He knows what she means.

Her hand begins to pump this time. She alternates between straight up and down and curving around the front to the back of him.

"I- I- can't. Emma."

"I think you're close." Her hand moves even quicker. "I can feel the way you spilling even more. All over my hand when I do this…" She opens her hand wide and lets her middle finger encircle just the tip of him again. "Do you think you're close, Killian?"

"Emma." It's a cry now. A sob.

"Are you, Killian?"

"God, Emma, what-"

"If you're not, do you think it'll help if I get down on my knees?" she asks him lightly. "If my hand isn't."

"Goddammit!" His hand shoots out and grabs her at her waist.

"You're not supposed to touch," she reminds him

But maybe it's too late…

"Stop, Emma."

"You don't want me to stop."

"If you don't then I won't. So stop."

"So you're close."

"Yes!"

It makes her smile. It makes her want him so damn bad.

"Come for me, Killian," she whispers.

"Like-"

"Just like this."

And she does want to get down on her knees. She does want to feel him inside her. But that isn't a part of this time. No.

"Just like this."

"Emma, I'm…"

Her hold on him is firm. Her pumps increase in speed. She takes all of him.

He curses. Again. And again. His hand tightens on her waist.

She feels the way he comes in her hand. She feels the warmth of him all over her.

She misses him. Not just this. Not just the way he lets her be in charge, giving him pleasure without wanting anything in return. She misses everything about him. About them.

Emma listens to his breathing as she holds on to him. He is going limp. Everywhere. If she can do this to him… It makes her smile again.

She slips her hand from out of the underway, leaving him a sticky mess. If he doesn't mind, she doesn't mind.

"Killian?" she asks quietly.

He moans quietly. "I don't know what to say." He chokes back a laugh. "Thank you?"

"Um…" Emma feels lighter for some reason. He's joking with her. The mood is light. "You're welcome?"

She really did miss him…

It's dark in the room, but she sees the way his arms swoop over before the tackle her in a hold.

"Emma." Her name is a growl as he lifts her up.

She grabs on to his shoulders tightly as he begins to move.

"You can't see!" she squeals. "Don't drop me."

"I know where the couch is," he assures her. "I could find it with my eyes close."

And when he knocks into the coffee table, all she can do is laugh.

"I shouldn't have closed my eyes," he murmurs softly.

If that is an apology…

He drops her down on the couch, followed immediately by himself.

"Is this real?" He shakes his head. "What is this, Emma?"

Her hand wraps around his neck as she searches out that sweet spot at the nape of his neck.

"I don't know how long I'll need. I don't know, Killian. But the thought of not having you in my life at all?" She shakes her head. "I don't like that thought."

"So…"

"I don't know…"

"Test the water? See where it goes?"

"Is that okay?" Because she wants that to be enough.

"That's okay." It's soft. It's real. It's true. "Whatever you need."

And then he is no longer right there. He begins to move. She knows she doesn't _have_ to ask, but she does.

"What are you doing?"

His hands are pushing up her shirt. His head dips down and he is kissing her.

"Returning the favor, love." He says it as if it's so matter-of-fact. "It's been too long since I…"

His voice trails and she doesn't know if she's ready.

The feel of his tongue at her navel…

It's her turn to moan, to arch her back, to grab at his head.

The doubts go away.

She _is_ ready.


End file.
